


Zuko, Not Alone

by rainpie



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Character Death, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 10:51:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17303270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainpie/pseuds/rainpie
Summary: Emotional. One-shot.





	Zuko, Not Alone

_Buddy,_

_Things haven’t quite been the same since you left. For one, the Spirit Festival isn’t nearly as fun anymore. I used to look forward to it – quite a lot, in fact – but now it just feels like a duty to go there every year, keeping up the Fire Nation’s cooperative and peaceful face. Sokka and Katara have told me that they feel the same way, like it’s lost its spark somehow. Obviously, Toph claims she never felt it to begin with._

_Perhaps the worst aspect of it all is the political socializing. You know all those diplomats and royals that I am obligated to greet? Well, since you’re not here, I must now face them alone. If I have to answer one more question about my father’s former reign, or my plans for Izumi, or my scar… I might just pray to the Spirits for Sozin’s Comet to return to the Fire Nation and land right on the royal palace._

_It’s not just them that makes the whole ordeal hard, though. Do you remember the times we escaped the festival to spar in the woods? Those cold winter evenings between the trees, bright under the moonlight while the snow all around burned red and blue and purple as we bended back and forth._

_And the walks we took back to the festival, deliberately walking at a minimal pace to savor every moment we had to chat privately as we talked together under the stars?_

_I miss that._

_~~I hope~~  _ _~~If you~~  Are you aware of what I am saying to you now?_

_Do you hear me at all?_

His voice cracked at the last sentence, breath misting in the freezing night air. Firelord Zuko ended the letter there, stopping himself from reading out the rest.

Gently folding the parchment and tucking it away under his cloak, Zuko slipped his hood over his head and turned his face away from the moon. His footsteps crunched on glistening snow as he made his way back to the festival. A thousand tiny diamonds shined from below and above, on the moonlit stretch of snow around him and in the inky-blue sky above. In the distance he heard the soft roar of music, talk, and laughter as the Southern Water Tribe Spirit Festival raged on in full swing. A great big party in a tiny, tiny village.

Just when he’d come close enough to catch the scent of grilled seafood and white sage incense, Zuko heard the soft treads of another’s footsteps nearby. Flicking back his hood and turning around quickly, the Firelord gave the person a sharp glance before he relaxed, his shoulders drooping, fists unclenched.

“Hello, Zuko.” Katara’s cheeks and nose were pink, her braided hair wispy and falling out of place. She had obviously been walking for some time. Clouds of mist billowed around her as she panted for breath.

“Katara. Are you alright?” Zuko offered lamely. She seemed surprised by the question. “Yes, of course. I’m getting fresh sea prunes for Sokka, he’s manning a food stall today.” She sniffed loudly. When Zuko looked confused, she gestured with her chin down at the large wooden barrel in her hands, filled almost to the brim with the slimy creatures, which Zuko somehow hadn’t noticed before now.

“Oh. Alright.” He silently cursed himself for being so rude; fortunately for him he was in the presence of a friend who had known him for a long time, rather than a self-righteous, overly-sensitive earl who would have been deeply offended at his abruptness. “Here, I’ll help you.” Zuko took the barrel from Katara, and together they made their way down towards the village.

They’d only been walking for a couple of minutes, carrying on in comfortable silence, when she said it. “It’s really been three years, hasn’t it?” Katara murmured softly. Zuko nearly dropped the barrel.

“W-what?” he stammered, turning to face her. She dragged her gaze over to him, pain in her eyes, and he knew to his horror that she was referring to exactly what he thought she was. He didn’t want to talk about it, even to one of the only remaining best friends he had left. But they had to talk about it, because they stood with the fringe of the forest on the horizon behind them and the festival blazed on before them and the moon was bright and everything was empty without him.

“Aang,” she replied, even more quietly. People shrieked and cheered and hollered softly in the distance, their voices giddy and bursting with joy.

“Oh,” was all he said, his heart hollow.

They stood like that for a moment there. The festival lights, although still somewhat far off, drowned the snow just ahead of them in pastel shades of pink, orange, green and red.

“We used to go for walks together around here, too, but I know this place was special to you both.” Katara was looking at him with the kind of genuine sadness that only she could share with him. The entire world had mourned the Avatar’s death three years prior, but it had only lasted as long as there was no Avatar. When the new one had been born, the child whom Zuko had not yet met, it was like they all forgot. And it had, of course, been very hard on everyone in their gang, but even Toph and Sokka couldn’t relate to the kind of grief it had put Zuko through. The raw anguish felt like a chain being wrapped tightly around his heart and slowly squeezing it harder and harder until it shattered into a million pieces, over and over again. There was only one other person who knew how this felt.

And all this time he had been alone, unwilling to speak about it. Coping by writing letters to read out loud once a year in the middle of a forest at the dead of night, with nothing but the wind and animals and stars to catch the heartfelt words, blindly uncertain if he was even being heard at all while the one he so desperately longed to reach could not reply. 

“I loved him,” he choked out, and all of a sudden his cheek was wet.

Katara didn’t seem to be surprised. First she gingerly reached out and touched him on the arm, then lightly rested hers around his shoulders. Zuko stared at her for a moment; then carefully he allowed the barrel to slip down til it sat in the snow. They embraced, and for the first time in an age, Zuko felt the heartache lessen ever so slightly as he circled his arms around his old friend. 

“I know,” she said. "Me too."


End file.
